


Haikyuu Drabbles

by glass_fossa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Organized Crime, Blood and Violence, Drabbles, Drinking, Gen, Halloween, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glass_fossa/pseuds/glass_fossa
Summary: This is going to be a collection of short fics based on prompts - I'll post the prompt, ship/characters, rating, and any warnings at the beginning of every chapter. The overall tags/rating will be changed with each additional chapter, so check the notes at the top of the chapter for specifics.________________________________________________Newest chapter (7): Daichi & Kuroo. Daichi asks Kuroo not to burn the house down and Kuroo fails (domestic fluff)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 55





	1. Pick me up: Akaashi & Kuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Akaashi gets busted at a club for giving a fake ID. Kuroo behind them is sweating bullets because they were going to try the same thing and casually get out of line and start a conversation with Akaashi.
> 
> Warnings: cursing
> 
> Rating: Teen
> 
> Ship: Kuroo/Akaashi
> 
> Also, Kuroo doesn't actually introduce himself until late in the drabble, so I called him lots of goofy names :P

The bouncer studied him with a cocked brow, eyes flitting between the ID and his face, "This is you?"

Despite the obvious suspicion in the bouncer's voice, Akaashi's face remained placid as ever, "Yes."

The large man began to tap the ID rhythmically against his palm, head tilting to the left, "You ever read those time travel posts on Reddit?"

Akaashi fought the desire to pin the man with a glare, aware he was trying to catch him in some sort of trap. "What?"

"This says you were born in 2123."

Suddenly, images of his roommate’s lazy grin were floating through his mind; He should've known better than to blindly trust Kenma with something like making him a fake ID.

"You came back in time 103 years just to come to this shitty bar? Something big gonna go down I should know about?" The bouncer looked down at him, expression irritatingly smug as he extended his arm, offering the fake ID between two fingers.

Akaashi stayed silent as he accepted the useless hunk of plastic, calmly formulating an appropriately mocking response. Kenma always told him that he hated when Akaashi used knowledge from his linguistics courses in casual conversation; _annoying_. Kenma wasn’t here to judge him, though, so Akaashi settled on tapping into his recent foray into the Swedish language. He looked up at the bouncer, speaking with deadly seriousness, "This is the night the Främling invade."

Somewhere behind him, Akaashi heard an amused snort.

"What the hell is a...foaming?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Akaashi turned on his heel, sliding the ID into his back pocket as he walked off. So much for his plan to let loose for the night. Maybe this was the universe telling him to write that paper for Semantics ahead of time instead of waiting until the night before it was due like he usually did.

He’d only gotten a few meters away from the entry line when he heard the sound of heavy feet on the pavement, jogging towards him, "So, am I gonna die tonight if I stay here, oh wise time traveler?"

Akaashi could feel the presence of someone a few inches taller than him at his side. When he turned his head, he had to tilt it up slightly in order to see the person’s face. He was met with sharp, mischievous eyes, bedhead, and a lopsided grin. _Well, he looks like trouble._ Akaashi shrugged, looking back to the street ahead of him. "It probably depends on how bad your pick-up lines are."

Another amused snort, the tall boy beside him looped his arms behind his neck, leaning over toward Akaashi, "My pick-up lines are _golden_ , I'll have you know."

Akaashi shot him an unconvinced glance, as the taller man straightened back up, gesturing towards himself with a flourish of his right hand.

"Well, here I am."

Akaashi stopped walking briefly, confused by the turn in the conversation, “…what?"

Mr. Bad-Hair seemed delighted with capturing Akaashi’s attention fully, the playfulness in his voice rising, "What are your _other_ two wishes for the genie?"

 _Oh my god._ Akaashi couldn’t remember the last time he’d rolled his eyes so hard; probably when Konoha had insisted his overly enthusiastic interest in his Biology professor was _totally_ straight. Akaashi began walking again with new vigor, hearing a raucous laugh echo behind him.

Tall, dark, and not-so-smooth ran to catch right up, "Oy! That was one of my favs!"

"The fact that line is a favorite of yours says some very damning things about your personality."

"Such as?"

"You're Arrogant. Conceited. You probably masturbate in front of a mirror."

Another raucous laugh; Akaashi wondered if this guy knew he sounded like a video-game villain when he laughed.

"Y'know how I know you're a time traveler? _Because I see you in my future_.” Akaashi could feel the other man’s pleased grin without even having to look over at him, “That one’s pretty good, right? Totally on the nose.”

He couldn’t help but smile slightly; only a total dork would get such a sense of accomplishment from such a shitty pick-up line. Akaashi looked back up at him, "Why are you following me? Your lines won't work here."

Dork Extraordinaire slid his hands into the front pockets of his loose jeans, shrugging, "My ID is fake, too. It's got like, a 1/3 success rate, but I don't wanna try it right after you got busted. I'll come back some other night."

"Mmm. I feel sorry for those future patrons."

The man beside Akaashi gently prodded his arm with his elbow, "Maybe you're one of those future patrons. I mean you _are_ a time traveler." He jogged out ahead of Akaashi slightly, turning to walk backwards down the road so he could meet Akaashi’s gaze. He was grinning brightly, "Ooh, maybe this is our 'meet-cute'. You're the protagonist and I'm your fated love interest, we're in one of those cheesy time travel romance novels... _not even the space-time continuum can keep us apart_."

Akaashi was the one to let out an amused snort this time. _I guess he is kind of funny…in a really nerdy way._ "I just want you to know you're continuing to reveal _very_ damning things about your personality."

The pick-up enthusiast’s grin grew somehow still wider, it finally reaching all the way to the corners of his eyes as he fully put on the brakes, causing Akaashi to also have to stop walking. "I'm not a mathematician, buuuut....I'm pretty good with numbers. How about you gimmie yours and watch what I can do with it." He began to wiggle his dark brows for added emphasis.

 _How is he a real person_? Akaashi crossed his arms over his chest, bumping one hip to the side, "We've only been talking for like five minutes."

Sir-grins-a-lot shrugged, "So? That's enough time for me to know I like you. C'mon, promise I'm a fun friend. And I can get you free coffee because I work at the cafe in the university library. You are a student, aren't you?"

Akaashi sighed, hating that he found himself admiring this guy’s persistence. He unfurled his arms, holding out a hand, "Give me your phone."

The playful grin he’d been wearing transitioned to a genuine smile as the taller man dug his phone from his back pocket and held it out excitedly. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the phone to be returned. When Akaashi pressed it back into his palm, he looked right down at the new contact, " _Akaashi_...” Akaashi almost couldn’t stand how bright the man’s smile had become, “I'm Kuroo."

Akaashi nodded in confirmation, moving to step right around Kuroo and proceed down the street. He wasn’t surprised at all when Kuroo turned right away to join him at his side again, "So, Kuroo-san. Was that last pick-up line a lie or are you actually good with numbers?"

"That one’s actually legit, I'm a physics student."

Akaashi made a pained sound, " _Eugh_. Strike three."

"Hey! Physics is dope! It helps you stay _grounded_."

“Do you _know_ how much of a dork you are?”

“I’m a dork who can get you free coffee.”

Akaashi somewhat regretted looking back over just in time to see Kuroo pointing two finger guns at him. His eyes were going to hurt with how much he was rolling them tonight, but despite that, he didn’t find himself trying to break away from Kuroo and his inane chatter as they walked back in the direction of the university. Maybe letting loose could just be letting some total dork (who Akaashi, was now finally noting, just also happened to be totally gorgeous) ease your mind with the world’s worst pick-up lines. Why not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on twitter! @jenna_what


	2. Mary Shelley: Daichi & Kuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Daichi and Kuroo are college students who meet when they are both cast to work in a local haunted attraction for Halloween.  
> Rating: Gen  
> Warnings: None  
> Ship: Daichi/Kuroo

“Oy, Frankenstein. I think _you’re_ supposed to scare the kids. Not the other way around.”

Daichi looked over at the overly smug vampire leaning against one of the foam headstones in the dimly lit fake graveyard, “He had freaking spiders crawling out of holes on his face…and how many times do I have to tell you, I’m Frankenstein’s _monster_ , not Frankenstein.”

“Yeah, yeah Mary Shelley. Sorry, but that boat sailed like, a hundred years ago.”

Daichi stared at his co-worker in slight astonishment, “Wait, you know who Mary Shelley is?”

Kuroo snorted, standing up straight and poking a nearby hanging skeleton, making it swing wildly, “Duh. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Yeah, but you’re-“

“I’m what? _Dumb_?”

Daichi could feel his cheeks flushing and he was suddenly very thankful for the sticky layers of green face paint, “No, I just…you don’t seem like the type to read classics is all.”

Kuroo grinned, showing off his prominent fake fangs, “Lemme tell ya, I’m _full_ of surprises Sawamura. If you’d actually come to one of the cast parties maybe you’d know that by now.”

Daichi shrugged, “I can’t.”

“You know if you’re like nervous or something, I could always come pick you up so you don’t have to show up alone.”

Frankenstein’s monster was left blinking in silence. He and Kuroo had spent most of their time in the fright house leering and shouting into the faces of patrons, they usually got five minutes between people at most to chat randomly. He hadn’t expected the haughty vampire to be so thoughtful.

Daichi cleared his throat, “Ah, no…I, I mean that’s really nice…but that’s not it. I work another job. Grocery store clerk. This is just extra money…”

Kuroo grinned, “Mary Shelley, I just somehow knew you were the hardworking type.”

Just then a gaggle of teenagers entered the room and both boys jumped into character, Kuroo looming over them, raising his arms to exaggerate his height as he droned on about ‘vanting to suck their bloooood’. Daichi went with his usual assortment of random groans and guttural shouts. It had the intended impact, the group shrieking and pushing to exit the room as quickly as they could.

Kuroo dropped his character almost as soon as he’d picked it up, slouching against the wall behind him, “Do you always work Friday nights?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there any night you don’t work?”

“I mean…Sunday, I guess? We work here until 10, but then I just go home.”

Kuroo nodded, “I’ll tell Bokuto we should switch this week’s party to Sunday night.”

Daichi could feel the heat rising in his cheeks again, and he was hoping it wouldn’t be enough to send his face paint streaking down his face, “Y-you don’t have to do that, really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah it is, you’re part of the cast.” Kuroo grinned at him, flashing his fangs again, “Besides, I’d kinda like to be able to talk to you for more than three minutes at a time.”

The heat in Daichi’s cheeks was now traveling south, his chest beginning to feel warm and fluttery, “…dunno why. I’m not really that interesting.”

“Hmm, I disagree. How many people have a full collection of magnets with different dog breeds on them?”

“Well, I can’t have pets in my apartment so- wait.” Daichi’s eyes widened, “How…how did you know about that?”

Kuroo hummed, “Tanaka told me.”

“Why were you talking to Tanaka about me?”

The vampire’s lazy grin grew slightly, “Seriously? I’m starting to think playing Frankenstein has actually shrunk your brain Sawamura.”

“ _Frankenstein’s monster_. What’re you talking about?”

“I’m into you, Mary Shelley. Neck bolts and all.”

“…what?”

For the first time all season, both Kuroo and Daichi missed their cue, a group of people entering the room and not getting the expected scare; instead, getting an eye-full of the strange spectacle that was Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster making googly-eyes at one another. Somewhere in the back of his mind Daichi registered hearing one of them say ‘ _I told you this place was a rip-off’._ Another patron made a point on his exit to turn to Daichi and say, “Your costume is lame, Frankenstein."

Kuroo took it upon himself to shout after the customer, “Frankenstein’s monster! And his costume is dope!” Kuroo turned back to Daichi who was still staring at him, stunned.

He finally managed to speak up after a few more beats, voice a bit unsure, “S-so…Sunday night, you said?”

Kuroo’s fang-tastic grin returned, “ _Yes_. Looking forward to it, Mary.”


	3. Mistress Tequila: Bokuto & Kuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kuroo and Bokuto sleeping on top of each other (in bed, couch, etc) when Bokuto flops on the floor.  
> Ship: Bokuto/Kuroo  
> Rating: Teen  
> Warnings: drinking

Usually, they at least made it to the bed, but the volleyball team’s party the night before had been raucous enough that they’d only made it as far as the couch before collapsing down together. Kuroo had woken a few times throughout the night, aware that his brawny boyfriend was flat atop him, trapping his arms at awkward angles and making his legs fall asleep. He hadn’t bothered to try and move Bokuto, though. Something about his weight was comforting to Kuroo; it felt like _home_. And with Bokuto on top of him, he could feel it in his bones, both metaphorically and physically.

He was finally fully woken when suddenly the weight was gone and a loud groan broke the silence of the small apartment. Kuroo peeled one eye open slowly, having to blink and rub at his eyes for more time than should be necessary to get them to focus. When he could finally take in his surroundings, he realized Bokuto was no longer on top of him. A sigh from the floor had him looking down, finding his boyfriend face down on the ground next to the couch.

He could see Kenma’s pinched face in his head, recalling a conversation they’d had just a week ago, ‘ _Aren’t college athletes supposed to be role models’?_ Kuroo’s response had made his best friend’s expression even sourer, ‘ _That’s the baseball team’s job’._

Kuroo snorted, moving a leg to poke at his boyfriend’s lifeless form with his foot, “Bo, babe…are you dead?”

All Kuroo got in response was a gravely groan, Bokuto’s voice still raw from a night full of loudly scream-singing karaoke songs.

Kuroo closed his eyes again, laughing as he draped an arm over his face, “I told ya to cool it on the shots…you always regret tequila.”

Bokuto’s voice was muffled as he spoke directly into the floor, “…but the limes are _so tasty_.”

Kuroo snorted, “I’m dating a giant toddler.”

Bokuto turned his head so his cheek was pressed against the floor and he could look up at Kuroo, “A giant toddler who knows how to _love you down_.” Bokuto tried to waggle his brows but quickly regretted it, groaning at the oncoming headache.

“Bro…I know you’re hungover and not thinking straight, but _weird_.”

Bokuto pouted, “You love me.”

Kuroo patted his boyfriend’s round posterior with his foot, “I do love you…every weird part of you. Your shitty sense of humor, your crappy protein shakes, even your weird hair.”

Bokuto finally shot up to a sitting position, his pout now accompanied by furrowed brows, “Hey! You’re one to talk about weird hair, I-” Before he could continue, another groan escaped him, Bokuto slumping as a shiver visibly ran through him.

The lanky man sprawled out on the couch finally sat up, standing and heading for the kitchen, “Get your ass off the floor before you catch a cold.”

Bokuto pulled himself up just enough to roll back onto the couch and snuggle his face down into the pillow that still smelled like his boyfriend. Kuroo was back after just a couple of minutes, sitting on the edge of the couch and gently pushing some aspirin and water towards Bokuto’s face, “Here. To help you forget mistress tequila and her charming limes.”

Bokuto took the medicine, quickly swallowing it down and drinking some of the water before passing it back to Kuroo, “Thanks, bro. I’m not gonna fall for it next time. I won’t let those limes seduce me.”

Kuroo snorted, starting to run a hand softly through Bokuto’s hair. He loved when it hung down in its natural shape; _cute_. But he knew Bokuto’s wild hairstyle was a point of pride for him, so he’d never suggest he wear it another way. “I’ll just buy you a bag of limes next time. I’ll even wear a damn fanny pack to carry some around in at the next party.”

Bokuto looked up at him with shining eyes, “Really? You’d do that for me?”

It had been a joke, an obvious one, he thought. But like hell was Kuroo going to shoot down his boyfriend when he was looking at him like _that_. “Yeah, really.”

Bokuto beamed, “You know why I don’t need mistress tequila?”

Kuroo’s hand was still gently massaging his boyfriend's scalp as he hummed, “Hmm, why?”

“Because getting drunk on you is the best feeling in the _world_.”

Kuroo felt his cheeks flush as he grinned, taking a gentle hold on Bokuto’s hair so he could tilt his head back. He leaned down over his boyfriend speaking against his lips, “Then why don’t you take a sip?”


	4. Extinguished Stars: Daichi & Kuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kuroo & Daichi working for competing yakuza families (& used to be close childhood friends)
> 
> Rating: Mature
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of Blood & Violence
> 
> This chapter alludes to past Kuroo/Daichi & features the characters as members of organized crime - I went with gritty characterizations here so if that's not your jam, you might not enjoy this chapter! (Bokuto legitimately enjoys getting into fights & beating people up)

_Itchy_. Kuroo ran his thumb over the raised scar running the length of his left palm. It was in such a sensitive, obvious place he couldn’t even go a few minutes without noticing it.

There was a mess of small, dark marks surrounding the old wound like a halo. Kuroo had let himself get a little too drunk one night when he knew he shouldn’t have, when he couldn’t stop replaying their last encounter in his head. _He wanted to be rid of it;_ rid of the memories, rid of the suffocating feelings, rid of the physical branding that wouldn’t let him forget the parts of himself he’d given to someone else.

The knife had been too dull and he’d been too drunk to finish the job properly, luckily. Well, other people would say ‘luckily’. Kuroo would have rather dealt with the pain of a skinless palm than the maddening gnawing in his chest he couldn’t seem to escape.

His thumb grazed a particularly tender portion of the scar, Kuroo inhaling sharply as his vision flickered. _A flash of steel followed by the flash of brown eyes, heavy with a complicated expression._

Kuroo wholeheartedly regretted having bought Daichi such a sturdy switchblade for his twenty-first birthday. It was the one purchase he’d never fully be free from.

He pulled his fingers in, making a fist as tightly as he could. Sometimes if he dug his nails into the palm with enough force the sensation would be enough to override the persistent itch in his scar.

 _Numb it_.

Kuroo wondered briefly when he’d become this; a person who simply covered up the parts of his life he didn’t want to deal with, someone who would rather be numb than someone strong enough to endure. It didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel like him. But really, when was the last time he’d even felt like himself?

Better not to think about it.

He dug into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out a pair of well-worn leather gloves and slipping them on with ease. They had their own scars, their own set of memories; they were more like a second skin, really. But even though they had their own history, Kuroo much preferred his second skin. It helped him cover the pain both physically and mentally, and however briefly it might be, it let him _forget_.

Forget the pain. Forget the yearning. Forget the deceit. Forget the love.

 _Forget Daichi_.

Kuroo could hear the light jog of feet, turning to see Bokuto heading back towards him. When he was finally standing next to him, Kuroo took in the slick sheen on Bokuto’s own pair of leather gloves, catching hints of red under the light of the moon as Bokuto moved. “What took you so damn long?”

Bokuto raised a brow, “Oy! They didn’t wanna talk, obviously.” Bokuto held his hand up in front of Kuroo’s face, confirming that the knuckles of his gloves were soaked with blood.

Now that Bokuto’s hand was in better lighting, Kuroo could see the gloves were punctured and torn in several places, “Akaashi’s gonna kill you when he sees those gloves. You’ve chewed through like ten pairs this month.”

“What am I supposed to do, _not_ do my job?”

“Use your brass knuckles, dumbass. I don’t know why you even carry weapons when all you wanna do is beat people with your bare hands like some Neanderthal.”

Bokuto shrugged, a grin that reminded Kuroo of a hungry jackal spreading over his face.

The car’s headlights flickered when Kuroo hit the unlock button, “So?”

"What?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “What did you find out? Or did you finally go full psycho and just beat someone without getting any real information?”

“Oh! No, I definitely got the info.”

“Bokuto.”

Bokuto stilled slightly before looking down at the ground, kicking a nearby pebble away from one of the car’s rear tires, “It’s what we thought. It was one of the Inagawa-kai clans that stole all the profits and torched the den. Just some small clan trying to get their boss’s attention…”

“Which clan?”

“Aw, c’mon Kuroo, man…it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go already, I’m starved and you promised ramen after the job.”

Bokuto was trying to play off his evasion as irritation due to hunger, but Kuroo knew better. The middle finger of Bokuto’s right hand was tapping the inside of his sticky, gloved palm; his tell. He was definitely lying and Kuroo was almost sure he knew why.

His chest was starting to tighten in an annoying way, making the expression he pinned Bokuto with even harsher than he’d intended, “ _Bo._ Which clan.”

The other man sighed, “You know which clan.” Bokuto turned slightly, leaning back against the side of the car, “They said Karasuno’s leader was the one who lit the place up.”

“Mm.” Kuroo turned, joining Bokuto in leaning against the car. He tilted his head back, looking up at the moon, eyes searching the sky. _No stars_. Daichi had always talked about loving the stars in his home town, about wanting to show Kuroo someday. Kuroo had never put much stock in it because he knew how their world worked. Tokyo was only so bright because it consumed everyone's light. They were all just fuel for the fire, so it was only a matter of time before Daichi was pulled fully into the darkness, the stars in his sky extinguished. “Guess he’s come a long way from being mister ‘I don’t want anyone to get hurt’, huh?”

Bokuto shrugged, “It happens to all of us.”

Kuroo hummed, “Yeah, but we don’t all make the change with the amount of _gusto_ you did, Bo.” When Bokuto grinned sheepishly, Kuroo just snorted, “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you take a delinquent who gets into fights all the time anyway and throw him into organized crime.” Kuroo pushed off the car, opening the driver’s side door, “C’mon. Let’s go eat before we head back.”

“Bro…” Kuroo looked over the hood of the car at Bokuto who was now standing beside the passenger door, “I’m sorry. I know you always wanted Daichi to get out.”

Kuroo paused briefly, feeling a sharp twinge in his left palm. He looked down at it, curling his fist around the car keys so they dug into his hand, “It’s fine. He made his choice. We all do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stashed a lot of back story in my head while writing this drabble, so if you're into this au let me know & I'll try to write some more!


	5. Honest Mistake: Bokuto & Kenma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bokuto is the barista at a coffee shop and always screws up Kenma's name on purpose
> 
> Rating: General
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Ship: Bokuto/Kenma

The first few times it’s a legitimate mistake. Bokuto is bad with names anyway, but especially when they’re connected to someone so cute his brain can barely keep his heart pumping and lungs filling. It doesn’t help that his favorite customer tends to speak in a quiet mumble, obviously not looking to catch anyone’s attention. Unfortunately for him, he has 120% of Bokuto’s attention.

Kuma. Kina. Kera.

By the fourth visit, Bokuto is finally able to keep the cogs in his head turning long enough to actually listen closely to his soft utterance; _Kenma_. His name is Kenma.

 _Cute_. _Illegally cute_.

Bokuto's brain floods with blood, thoughts going offline yet again, body moving on autopilot. So the fourth mistake, Kerma, is an honest mistake, too.

The fifth time Kenma’s name is misspelled on his coffee, it’s on purpose. Bokuto’s had enough time since the last visit to realize every time he misspells Kenma’s name and the other barista calls for him, Kenma doesn’t realize right away and stays in the café longer, nose buried in his phone. He knows it’s selfish (and he’s half sure it might get him fired if his boss finds out), but he can’t help himself. Getting to look up and see Kenma slouched down in the big leather chair in the corner is the brightest spot in his day. It makes him feel like he could make ten perfect venti, nonfat, extra dry cappuccinos in a row.

No. _Twelve_. He could make twelve perfect venti, nonfat, extra dry cappuccinos in a row thanks to the extra fire he’s filled with anytime Kenma is around.

The tenth time Kenma comes, the café is slammed. All the other baristas are busy so Bokuto has to call out the order himself. When he looks down at the cup and sees ‘Kuna’ he feels a pang of guilt. Bokuto suddenly wonders what he’s been doing; in _no_ world does he want Kenma to think that he isn’t paying attention to him, that he isn’t waiting for the clock to hit 9:17 am every morning just so he can catch a glimpse of his cute little pudding-head.

So Bokuto grabs the sharpie from his apron and gets to work. He covers ‘Kuna’ with a heart, filling it in with ink and carefully writing ‘Kenma’ next to it. He frowns at the cup. He’d done his best but it’s admittedly sloppy work and reminds him of the pictures covering his fridge at home, courtesy of his five-year-old niece.

The more he stalls the colder the coffee will get, though and if nothing else, he’s confident in his ability to make Kenma’s drink perfectly by now. Bokuto takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice before calling out loudly, “Kenma! Have your drink here!”

Kenma’s head lifts from his phone right way, and Bokuto feels his heart stop when a pair of surprised eyes meet his own across the café. Kenma wiggles out of the chair, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket as he moves across the room, head still gently turned down. When he approaches the counter and wraps his hands around the cup, Bokuto jumps slightly; Kenma's head is tilted up, bright eyes looking directly up into Bokuto’s, “You got my name right.”

“O-oh! Yeah!” Bokuto smiles sheepishly, an awkward laugh escaping his lips as he rubs at the back of his neck, “Sorry for getting it wrong so many times…I definitely owe you a free coffee!”

“Or dinner.”

Bokuto’s heart skips a beat, eyes nearly bugging out of his head, “E-eh??”

Kenma takes a sip of his coffee, looking off to the side, “Your hand always stalls when you go to write my name on the cup. Like you have to think about what to write. You do it on purpose.”

Bokuto just blinks, swallowing hard. _Oh god. He’s not just cute…he’s smart, too._

Kenma’s fingers start to anxiously rake along the side of his coffee cup, eyes flitting about and Bokuto realizes that Kenma is probably really forcing himself out of his comfort zone right now. And it’s all to talk to him. He feels his heart swell and suddenly the desire to keep up any pretense is totally gone, any desire to seem cool or play some smart game has been wiped from his mind. Bokuto just wants Kenma to know he thinks he’s special.

Bokuto smiles again, “Ahh, you totally caught me…” A blush starts to creep across his cheeks, “I, uh…I really like it when you hang out in the café and well…you stick around longer if we get your name wrong! It was real stupid of me, I’m sorry. Promise I, um…I’ve known your name was Kenma for a long time now! Not really an easy name to forget, it’s real cute…” Kenma’s eyes flit back up to Bokuto’s face and when Bokuto notices Kenma also has a light flush of pink on his cheeks, he loses any little bit of filter he has left, “Real cute, just like you.”

Bokuto thinks he might combust on the spot. Kenma’s face is fully red now and he’s struggling to keep eye contact, but he still stays at the counter, speaking up in a wavering voice, “…like I said. You owe me dinner.”

Bokuto’s eyes go wide, face lighting up as he realizes Kenma hadn’t just been messing with him the first time. He fumbles with the front of his apron, dropping his marker, nearly knocking a fellow barista at the espresso machine over as he dives for it. His face is ruddy when he reemerges above the counter, grabbing a napkin right away and writing his name and phone number on it, holding it out to Kenma, “Um, I’m Bokuto by the way!”

Kenma’s hand comes right up to his mouth, Bokuto only able to tell he’s laughing lightly by the movement of his shoulders. When he moves his hand, a small smile is still on his lips, “I know.” He points at Bokuto’s chest, to the nametag Bokuto is required to wear every day.

A rowdy laugh rings out in the café when Bokuto realizes his mistake.

Kenma folds the napkin and then tucks it into his jacket pocket before picking his coffee back up, “So, does this mean you’ll get my name right from now on?”

Bokuto hums, scratching his chin in consideration, “That depends…I mean when we get your name wrong you stay longer…and when you stay longer, I make better coffee…”

Kenma rolls his eyes, corner of his lips still pulling into a smile, “But you’re going to see me outside of work, so does it really matter?”

The smile that breaks out on Bokuto’s face is blindingly genuine, “Guess not! As long as I get my daily dose of Kenma, I’ll be able to keep working hard!” Bokuto swings an arm up in a flex to drive his point home and nearly knocks a carafe out of his co-worker's hand, earning him a pointed glare. He apologizes profusely and shrinks in on himself, turning back to Kenma and whispering ‘whoops’.

Kenma just snorts and starts walking off, offering a small wave, “I’ll text you.”

Bokuto’s hands find his waist as he stands tall and proud. Today, he thinks he can make _fifteen_ perfect venti, nonfat, extra dry cappuccinos in a row.


	6. Needy: Daichi & Kuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Long-distance
> 
> Ship: Daichi/Kuroo
> 
> Warnings: none
> 
> Rating: Teen

Daichi was learning that the 'thing' about long-distance relationships was they forced you to learn a lot of, often uncomfortable, facts about yourself.

If anyone had asked him a year ago who the more resilient one in their relationship was, he would have said himself, without a doubt. Kuroo was generally more prone to getting upset, Daichi not having realized exactly how much of an anxious human his boyfriend was until a few months into their relationship.

But that was then and this was now. And now? Daichi hadn't slept more than four hours a night for several nights in a row, a hollow feeling in his chest keeping him up at night, no matter what he tried. At first he'd convinced himself this was just because he was overwhelmed; anyone would be stressed trying to balance college, a part-time job, family responsibilities, and a long-distance relationship. But it had pretty quickly become clear to him that wasn't the case.

At night, he found himself acutely aware that he no longer spread out in bed the way he had in high school; his body shifted to the left side of the bed on instinct, expecting that someone tall and gangly would be taking up the right side. His hands would search the sheets in the dark, expecting to find a familiar body to anchor himself to.

That empty feeling keeping him awake, it wasn't anything complicated after all. It was Kuroo's absence.

Boy, he was in _deep_.

Daichi turned on his side, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and unlocking the screen to a photo of himself and Kuroo after one of Kuroo’s recent college volleyball games. His boyfriend’s arms were wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Kuroo’s trade-mark grin on full display. Daichi felt his breath catch in his chest. Why was he missing Kuroo so _much_? He’d seen him about a month ago and waiting a couple of months between visits was nothing new for them.

But something about the distance between them was so unsettling to him lately and he wasn’t sure why. He looked at his phone; 1:43am. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to text. Kuroo would probably just reply in the morning.

 **Daichi:** How’s your knee? I hope you’re actually icing it like they told you to.

Kuroo: i’ll have you know there’s ice on it as we speak

Kuroo: why are you up so late?

 **Daichi:** I should ask you the same thing.

Kuroo: that’s easy – i’m irresponsible, you know this

Kuroo: but you’re not, why are you up?

 **Daichi:** Can’t sleep.

Kuroo: want me to call and sing you a lullaby?

Kuroo: with my angelic voice, you’ll be out like a light ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

 **Daichi:** The goal is to fall asleep, not have nightmares.

Kuroo: Oy! 

Kuroo: i have such a mean boyfriend

 **Daichi:** I miss you.

Kuroo: you can’t just spring stuff like that on a guy…

Kuroo: i miss you, too. like an unhealthy amount

Kuroo: pretty sure iwaizumi is gonna deck me if i whine about how much i miss you at practice one more time

 **Daichi:** I feel weirdly needy saying this, but I don’t think waiting until next month to visit is going to work for me.

Kuroo: please be needy, i love it when you’re needy. it makes me feel less guilty about being the needy one in this relationship like…95% of the time

Kuroo: also – yes. please. i want to see you asap

Kuroo: need to see you, actually

 **Daichi:** Can I come up this weekend? I’ll just bump my ticket.

Kuroo: yes. absolutely. please please please come this weekend

Kuroo: now i’m not gonna be able to sleep

Kuroo: i get to see my loving, thicc boyfriend soon *(*´∀｀*)☆

 **Daichi:** Did you seriously just call me ‘thicc’?

Kuroo: hell yeah

Kuroo: you are

Kuroo: i’m a very lucky man

Kuroo: ah, my roomie is bitching about the light on my phone…i better try to sleep, but i’ll text in the morning

Kuroo: love you, hope you can get some sleep ♡

 **Daichi:** Love you, too, Tetsu. A lot.

Daichi closed their chat, looking at his boyfriend’s smiling face on his home screen one last time before tucking his phone under his pillow, settling down with a sigh. The hollow feeling in his chest wasn’t gone, it probably wouldn’t be until his boyfriend’s arms were around him again, but a sense of calm did seem to be passing over his limbs, body becoming heavy and melting into the bed.

He would see Kuroo in six days. He would get to hug his tall, idiot of a boyfriend. Daichi felt the corner of his lips pull up slightly just as his eyes fluttered closed. Maybe he wasn’t as resilient as he once wanted to believe, or maybe falling in love with Kuroo had changed him.

In the end, it didn’t matter, he realized. He had Kuroo to lean on when things got to be too much and that was all he needed.


	7. Burn it Down: Daichi & Kuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'Burn the House Down'
> 
> Rating: Teen
> 
> Warnings: Kitchen fire, injury (minor burns)
> 
> Ship: Daichi/Kuroo (there is a brief hint at casual sex with Akaashi)

Daichi was standing at the entrance to the kitchen trying to wrap his mind around the sight before him. The room was hazy with smoke, black ash blossoming up from their oven and onto the countertop. And then there was his boyfriend; black powder on his face matching the inside of their oven, the tip of one eyebrow definitely shorter than it used to be.

“Tetsu.”

“Daichi.”

“What is the _one_ thing I asked you not to do when we moved into this place?”

Kuroo tapped his chin, eyes turned up towards the ceiling as he feigned ignorance, “Hmm…accidentally make our elderly neighbor fall in love with me?” He shrugged, “I can’t help it, you know the charm just rolls off of me.”

Daichi groaned, fingers coming to pinch the bridge of his nose, “ _Tetsu_.”

Kuroo’s shoulders sagged, a sigh escaping his lips before he guiltily admitted, “…you asked me not to burn the house down.” The mess on his face and his clothes made him look extra pitiful and Daichi _almost_ felt sorry for his boyfriend’s misfortune. _Almost_.

“And what did you do?”

Kuroo did his best to play coy, coquettishly fluttering his lashes, “Tried to cook a _delicious_ meal for my very, very hard-working boyfriend so that he knows how much he’s loved and appreciated.” The hard silence that followed let Kuroo know that his attempt at swaying Daichi with flattery had failed miserably. “…and burnt the house down.” He sighed, “Look, in my defense, I didn’t even have to call the fire department. You were right, having an extinguisher _did_ come in handy.” Kuroo grinned, flashing his boyfriend two thumbs up. It was only then that Daichi noticed that Kuroo had patches of burnt skin on both his palms, Daichi reaching out to grab Kuroo’s right wrist so he could turn his hand over and look at it properly. Kuroo hissed lightly but didn’t fight against Daichi’s grip, “…I’m sorry. About the mess. And the oven.”

“Idiot. I don’t care about the oven, the oven can be replaced.” Daichi reached out to pick up Kuroo’s other hand, this time with more finesse, “I can’t replace you, though.”

They’d been dating for over four years now. Kuroo thought he should _really_ be used to his boyfriend’s very straightforward and honest ways of displaying his affection by now, but it somehow always took him by surprise. And so, as usual, Kuroo felt his face heating slowly, a definite ruddy blush crawling over his cheeks. He was hoping that at least maybe the sooty streaks on his face would cover his annoyingly apparent bashfulness.

“Why Sawamura Daichi, have you been stealing my charm when I wasn’t looking? Is that why the barista at that café on the corner stopped giving me free coffee?” Kuroo flinched slightly when Daichi accidentally grazed a particularly badly burnt patch of skin, “Ow!”

Daichi didn’t look up from inspecting his boyfriend’s hands, unbothered by Kuroo’s attempted teasing, “No. The barista stopped giving you free coffee because I was sick of her flirting so I told her you were my husband.”

Kuroo froze, “Wait, were you… _jealous_?” He could feel his blush intensifying as Daichi’s statement took root in his mind, the reality of his boyfriend’s intense love for him setting his body on fire. Kuroo nearly purred, his voice low, “I have a husband…I have a _possessive_ husband. _Damn._ ”

“I swear to god if you get a hard-on in the middle of our torched kitchen, Tetsu…”

“Well, it would be your fault so…”

“C’mon. Bathroom.”

“ _Ooooo~”_

Daichi looked up to see his boyfriend wiggling his brows, a playful grin on his face. Daichi snorted, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he turned and led Kuroo down the hall, “ _To clean your hand_. I don’t think you need to go to urgent care, but we definitely need to clean and bandage it for the night.”

“Do you regret falling in love with such an idiot?”

“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter...” Daichi led Kuroo into their bathroom, sitting him on the edge of the tub. He leaned down to press a kiss into his boyfriend’s mussed hair, “I was kind of fucked as soon as we met, Tetsu.”

Kuroo groaned quietly, leaning forward to bury his face into his boyfriend’s stomach, dirtying his shirt with ash in the process. His voice came out muffled, “Unfair. You’re being _so_ unfair tonight… I can’t handle you saying stuff like that…”

Daichi just laughed, running a hand through Kuroo’s hair with a pleased hum, “I know. It’s _really_ cute.”

“I’m broken. You broke me. I’m suing.” Kuroo tilted his head up, resting his chin on Daichi’s stomach, “Think I can get Akaashi to represent me?”

“I think that might be considered a conflict of interest.”

“Because he’s seen our dicks?”

Daichi laughed again, “I actually just meant because he’s a friend of us both, but…yeah, that too.” Using the hand in Kuroo’s hair, he gently pushed his boyfriend’s head back so that he could pull away and go grab supplies to clean and bandage Kuroo’s hands.

Kuroo sat quietly as Daichi kneeled on the floor, carefully tending to his burns, the only sound in the room his occasional sharp intakes of breath when something stung just a little too much. Once Daichi was finished, he set his hands on Kuroo’s thighs, rubbing small circles, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt any worse.” Lifting one of Kuroo’s hands, Daichi pressed a soft kiss to the bandaged palm.

When Kuroo looked down, Daichi met his eyes with a steadfast gaze, and suddenly everything felt _fuzzy_. How was one man simultaneously the best and worst thing possible for his heart?

Kuroo let his head droop, forehead coming to rest against Daichi’s as he spoke softly, “I love you, Dai…”

A soft smile and an even softer utterance were pressed against Kuroo’s lips, “Love you, too. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter! @jenna_what


End file.
